Dirty Dishes
by I.J.Girl
Summary: When living in a family with several members, regular chores are divided up to keep the children from feeling that their parents are being unfair. E.i. when it comes to washing dishes after a meal, the whole thing becomes a family affair to keep one person from being left alone in the kitchen with the burden of everyone's dirty dishes. Doesn't always work, though. 2012 angst/fluff


**Hi! Uhm...nothing much to say except that this is my first TMNT fanfic ever and and I'm a noob when it comes to TMNT so if I got anything wrong please forgive me. I also haven't watched all of the second season so a lot of the last part of this story is mostly what I've gathered off of other fanfics - seems like the poor babes go through hell and back from what I've read, so ****not ****looking forward to that part in the series. XD Anyway I hope I did the characters justice and that someone enjoys this crappy little thing I've thrown together. ^^ Enjoy!**

Raph cleared and wiped the table.

Donatello dried the dishes.

Mikey put the dishes away.

And Leonardo diligently washed away all the greasy residue from the dishes.

Or at least, that is the way it's supposed to go. Sometimes, the boys seem to forget that cleaning up is a job that befalls all four of them.

Like tonight.

Leo quietly lingers at the table as his brothers shovel down their food, not a passing thought to the amount of effort and time he had to put into it, since cooking is very much not his forte – his back aches funny from the weird position he had to take while stirring the gravy and the balls of his heels feel bruised from the sheer amount of time he has spent standing all day, hollering at his lazy brothers to try and get them to keep from trashing the place while Master Splinter was gone – and the tired twelve year old sighs as Michelangelo and Raph start fighting again over some trivial thing, his blue eyes flitting over to his father as he squashes any resentment that threatens to bubble up when he sees that his equally tired father is doing nothing to stop them. They fight all the time, the boy tells himself, and shifts in his seat, his shell scraping against the back of the chair as he abandons any attempt to sit with proper posture and just slumps.

Even the perpetually calm Donatello seems worked up and loud today, all excited over some new laboratory equipment Splinter managed to salvage from the dump and bring back home for him. Leo puts a mouthful of food in his mouth as he tries to stop feeling so tired – after all, they didn't even train properly today, and all they really accomplished when it came to cleaning their mess was to sweep the floors and dump all the junk into a big pile and not burn down the kitchen in the process – but the uncomfortable weight on his shoulders pulls hard enough that it affects his face. His eyes feel heavy and he simply wants to fall into bed and sleep away the discomfort and wake up fresh and ready for a new day. A hopefully better day.

A sudden jolt of uncharacteristic despair hits him when he realizes that the big pile of junk is still going to be there tomorrow after training and studying, plus everything they're going to end up throwing on the floor before they have time to tackle the pile. And since Donnie's always getting distracted halfway through, and Mikey is more likely to simply collapse on top of the pile to read a comic he's found in it than to finish and Raphael won't even bother starting, it's going to fall on Leonardo's shoulders to finish the pile alone. Which means he'll probably have to miss tomorrow's Space Heroes episod- Oh, right, he's already going to miss that. He forgot.

After spending all day trying to break up Michelangelo and Raph's constant fighting and failing, he had kicked Raph in the ribs, hard, and told them that if they wanted to kill each other, fine. He on the other hand was going to enjoy himself. Plonking himself down in front of the TV with headphones he had confiscated from Donnie, he spent the last ten minutes before Splinter came home zoning everything else around him out because he simply _could not _deal with them anymore. The fighting, the mess, the having to be responsible for everything in the lair, it was too much for him right now, especially since Raphael just won't _listen _already! Why was it so hard to just pause a video game to come and help set the table, or to let Donnie feed Spike so that they could get the disaster zone cleared up already? And why can't Donnie focus? How hard was it to pick things up off the floor and carry them to their rooms without staying stuck in that room trying to figure out some, some...sciencey thing, or whatever it was that Donnie got distracted doing?

And that was when Splinter came home. He was not pleased to find Raphael and Michelangelo ganging up on Donnie because he hit them with his ruler to get them to be quiet while Leonardo was sitting in utter bliss, oblivious to the mess behind him.

Leo's cheeks burn with shame at the thought of the harsh, humbling rebuke he got, and a flare of anger sparks as he remembers the flash of smug satisfaction that flickered across Raph's face before their father turned and brought the remaining three near to tears in shame as well. How dare they behave so horridly while he was gone? Now no one could watch TV for the rest of the week.

He nearly jumps when he hears his father's chair scraping against the floor as he excuses himself with a long-suffering sigh, and mere seconds after he leaves, three of the boys fly out of their seats to follow him, badgering and talking so loudly that for a moment Leo thinks surely someone topside can hear them. Once he realizes that he's alone, he watches them, dumbfounded, feeling more than a little abandoned. Frustration wells up so suddenly and strongly it brings tears to his eyes, his chest tightening in a hollow, aching feeling as he glumly puts another spoonful of his food in his mouth. It is bland. Sensei probably didn't like it. That's probably why he left most his food.

Failure suddenly hits him and the frustration leaves, but the tears stay.

He sighs. He closes his eyes and wills the tears away and it works, but the painful lump in his throat won't go away so easily. He props his chin on the table and looks forlornly at the dishes left behind.

Any other day, he would have jumped to his feet and demanded that his brothers come back and do their jobs, but after all day being after them constantly trying to get them to help him, or at least get through practice, with no cooperation, he feels too defeated to try and engage in another battle with Raphael's defiance, or Donnie's scatterbrained attempts to weasel out of work, or Mikey's...whatever. Mikey will probably just plonk himself down on a chair and yabber so much that Leo will just collapse of exhaustion right where he stands and not wake up until next month. No. No more of that.

His shoulders slump downwards and he glumly takes another bite of food. Why is he always the one left in charge? It wasn't really his fault that Mikey and Raph fight so much; and he spent all day trying to get them to stop. He even tried punishing them, only to get a face full of angry Raphael telling him that he's not his dad and to stop trying to be, while Michelangelo, sneaky little brat, snuck away as soon as possible. He tried getting them to watch movies. He tried separating them. He was about this close to hitting them both before he settled for kicking Raphael and leaving them to their own devices. Who cares if they get in trouble with Sensei? Only he gets in trouble too for some reason.

Leo gives an irritated sniff. And Raph wants to be in charge, HAH. Maybe Leo will let him be in charge next time. And he'll be just a big a pain in the neck as his red-color-coded brother can be, or even worse if possible.

He suddenly feels a twinge of guilt at such vengeful thoughts, but he sighs and pushes his plate away and props his chin on the edge of the table again, the responsibility he's been struggling with all day sitting on his shoulders just as fiercely as before, with a weight he was positively certain that no one else shared. Who else had to deal with cranky, rebellious brothers like his? With all their actions weighing on his shoulders? No one, that's who.

Reaching out, he plucks the dishes off the table, tossing them carelessly into the sink, before wiping the table with long, lethargic wipes, tired in a way that is both physical and not. Once all the sticky is off the table – and now mostly on the floor – he turns to the dishes and suddenly feels like throwing in the towel when he sees that somehow lunch's dishes are still there plus all the pots and pans from making supper. Or at least he feels like throwing something. The frustration and loneliness wells up inside him and he clenches his fists, wishing that he were like Raphael for once, and that he could throw something and break it without feeling the shame and guilt of having lost control. Why can't he lose control, huh? Why does he have to be perfect? Why does he have to be the example, the good boy, the one that shows the rest how one should behave? Why can't the others figure it out on their own?

Tears almost appear, but he fights them back, his eyes turning glossy as he forces himself to gently put down the towel and with effort begins to wash the dishes. A helplessness overwhelms him as he stares at the tower of dirty dishes, but it has little to do with them and more to do with him. The perfectionist in him is tired, weary of the battle, and as much as he wants to make Splinter proud there are days where Leonardo just wants to sleep forever, if it takes away this tremendous burden from his back. He strives to be patient, he tries so hard to be kind, he works to understand his brothers, but it feels like he's the only one trying and it's like being chained to a brick wall and being asked to move it while wearing roller skates.

Leo strokes a plate a little too forcefully and feels the plastic groaning under his hand. Control yourself, he quietly reminds himself, though right now the larger part of himself just wants to break something, just to get all this unpleasant...everything _out _somehow, so that it's no longer inside of him, so that he can keep going. A hollow ache is swallowing up his chest and stomach and he...he... he wants something so badly, and he doesn't even know what it is that he wants.

He slumps and continues washing the dishes, his grip suddenly slackening. What little bit of anger he had is gone, replaced by exhaustion and the stinging slap of failure as he scrubs the pots and lets the greasy water lap at his forearms while he scrapes and scrapes away at the residues left on the outside of the pot. After a while, he is done, but he doesn't feel any more accomplished, and he sullenly begins to dry the dishes when he feels a warm hand on his shoulder.

The contact spreads a warmth through him that almost touches the void inside his chest, and he has to fight his urge to spin around and bury himself into the person behind him, a long buried part of him still clamoring for physical attention, for the reassurance that yes, someone cares.

"My son."

Leonardo honestly wants to wrap his arms around his father and have him abolish the ache inside of him, but a combination of his own personal pride and the fact that his father is not the kind of person who takes well to physical affection, he simply tilts his head to peer at Splinter from the corner of his eye.

Splinter gives a heavy sigh, but his hand remains there, and Leo is secretly grateful, "I know this is not easy for you. Your brothers are not the easiest people to deal with."

Leo's brow furrows, but he makes no comment, suddenly feeling awkward with the hand on his shoulder for reasons he can't explain and can't seem to discover.

"Although I am upset with your behavior this afternoon, Leonardo, Donatello has informed me that you had been very patient with them up until a few minutes before my arrival. I want to thank you for taking care of your brothers while I was gone."

Something inside of Leo's chest stirs, but his father's words, instead of satisfying him, only fuel a hunger for something more. Splinter gives his shoulder a gentle, affectionate squeeze before letting go and turning to leave, and Leo almost drops the plate he was drying, turning towards his father's back with a plea on his lips.

"Father," he chokes out, barely a whisper in the air, and it's more than what he wants to reveal about himself, it's a plea, it's a fumbling for something he needs so desperately but doesn't know how to ask for. His thoughts suddenly fumble and fly and they are all directed at his father, begging, yearning.

_Father, look at me, I need-I want...just_

_I need you to see __**me.**_

He stands, his eyes open and letting out every emotion he doesn't dare even contemplate for fear of what he might find. They twist and turn like snakes, powerful and strong and utterly confusing and tears once again brim his eyes and he doesn't know why he needs this so much, but he does and it hurts to his very soul.

But Splinter never heard his quiet, keening plea, a sudden crash in the living area at the exact same moment making his ears flatten against his head as he cringes. Leonardo jumps in shock, shaking all over from the emotions suddenly retreating back to where they belong, and suddenly he's too exhausted to keep going as Splinter sighs and walks down to the boys and scolds them.

He feels lonelier than ever before and he realizes with a start that he's broken the plate in his hands sometime in the last thirty seconds.

...0.0

He doesn't mean to eavesdrop. He just happens by the dojo at the exact same time that Raphael is getting another lecture, and he would have gone along his merry way if he didn't hear his name being shouted.

"_You always say that! Leo this, Leo that! I'm sick and tired of Leo! I get it already!"_ the blue banded brother sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. Always the one held up on a pedestal; he can't make a single false step or else his brothers will be sent careening off on the wrong paths. Or so Sensei makes it seem.

"_No, you do not!"_

"_Yeah, I do!"_ Leo can picture Raph, fists by his side, his small stocky body rippling with anger as he stomps around defiantly, _"Leo's freaking perfect and I'm not and nobody is. I don't care anymore! I don't have to be Leo and you can't make me!"_

Leo leaves before he can hear any more, slightly shocked and at the same time not to hear his brother's opinion of him. He wanders to his room and plops down on the bed as he sighs.

Things used to be different. Nobody cared who was older, not really, and they took care of each other equally. He and Raph would huddle together under the blankets when the monsters in their rooms were too scary to face alone, and while they never really talked about it, they both knew that they were safe together. Nothing could touch them when they were together. They used to play in the tunnels surrounding their home without that touch of violent anger and resentment that colored their competitive games now, they used to be able to talk about stupid nothings without getting into fights that involved fists and real anger. They used to be the same, even though they were different.

After a while, Leo notices that the shouting has stopped, and he glances at the dojo. He debates whether or not to go, but after a while gives in, and his feet practically carry themselves to the dojo. Carefully he peers in, just in time to see Master Splinter turn from the angry turtle boy peeling himself off the floor and leave to his room. For a moment Leonardo is ready to turn and go, but he catches sight of Raphael's face and feels his throat clench so tightly he can't breathe for a moment.

His brother has peeled himself off the floor and he's bared his teeth, gritting them to hold back the silent sobs that shake his chest and threaten to make themselves audible, but his eyes follow their father with a plea just a fervent and hungry and _needing _as the plea that slipped from Leo's lips mere days ago.

_Look at me, _the green eyes scream, and Raph's whole body shakes from yearning. Raph's emotions are like fire, and they whip around him and sear him from the inside out, and he _needs _so much a comforting touch to soothe the burns that Leonardo wishes he was enough to give his brother what he needs.

With a flick of his tail, Master Splinter shuts the door behind him, and the way his brother just _crumbles _has him wrapping his arms around himself in agitation. A single sob makes the tiniest of sounds before Raphael begins to breathe, slowly, measurably. In the nose, out the mouth. Leo allows his brother time to compose himself before he tentatively steps into the dojo, making his way quietly over to Raph as his brother notices him. His head snaps to face him, and for a moment his green eyes are so raw and hurt and...and...vulnerable that Leonardo falters in fear. This isn't the Raph he's gotten to know these last few years, but the Raph who once took his hand and dragged him to the storm drain one night to howl at the moon, the Raph that once would jump on his back and demand to be carried, the Raph who was his best friend and crime partner, the Raph who would _listen_, even if he _didn't_ do what he said.

"I see you," Leo lets out as quickly as he can, nervous and awkward, before Raphael's walls and anger come back, before his best friend scrambles back into hiding, before he loses him again. The green eyes across from him had been in the process of snapping back into their defenses, but Raph faltered, surprise flickering across his expression as his mouth opens ever so slightly, before snapping shut. He blinks and his expression is much less vulnerable, much less open than before, but...it's also much less closed than normal. There's understanding and shock and maybe a little bit of chagrin in there and the ache in Leo's chest alleviates a little because there's someone else like him here. The same, but different. It's enough.

Raph sniffs and crosses his arms, and the moment is gone, but there's something different now. The resentment is eased.

"Well, yeah, numbskull," he responds, his voice slightly thicker from the tears earlier, "I'm standing right in front of you. I'd be worried if you didn't see me."

Leo gives him a playful smile before making his eyes space out, as if Raphael isn't even there, "Huh. That's funny. The air is talking."

Raph snorts, "You should get your eyes checked."

"It did it again!"

"That's it, I'm taking you to Donnie. Let's see how much uglier your face can get if we put some stupid looking glasses on it."

"Noooooo, not my beautiful face."

This time, a smile plays across his brother's stubborn lips and a euphoric satisfaction fills the hollow in his chest as he grins.

...0

It's April's job to clear the table.

It's Mikey's job to wipe the table

It's Raph's job to dry the dishes.

It's Donnie's job to put them away.

And somehow, even after all the stuff that has happened in New York and the fact that anyone would be willing to take over the job for him since he's only just woken up, it's still Leonardo's job to wash the dishes. He doesn't mind now, though. It's a mindless action, as natural as polishing his _katana _but without the haunting memories that accompany the swords now. And while Donnie and Casey have managed to sweep the usually responsible April away before she can do her part in clearing the mess, and Mikey has snuck away again – the sneaky little brat – Raph is still there.

There's something a little different now about his brother, something quieter, something stronger. Outwardly he's still as temperamental and hardheaded and rebellious as always, but while Leo can't place his finger on it, something is different. Something's changed.

He carefully washes the dishes that Raph collects from the table, and wipes the table down as Raphael dries what he's washed and there is a comfortable silence in the country house, so far away from all the horrible things happening on the streets of their home. Ever since he woke up, the weight of the guilt in him is crushing, the responsibility he holds could end him. They are heavy, terrible burdens and the hollow ache in his chest expands to his whole body.

"Y'okay?"

Leo notices that his hands are clenched so tightly over the edge of the table that it might break if he keeps his hold. He gives his brother a noncommittal sound and turns away, his leg aching as he tries not to limp.

He's done in the kitchen and Raph only takes a few more moments before he joins him sitting on the front porch, watching Casey and Donnie's shenanigans while Mikey helps April through a not-too-simple kata off in the background. Something unsettling rises in his stomach as he feels the added weight of Casey and April's lives to his shoulders, and he understands now, why he was put in charge so much when he was younger. It was to prepare him for this terrible weight he bore now.

Leo nearly jumps when he feels Raph's arm settle across the back of his shell, one hand on his shoulder, and he turns to face his brother, startled when the green eyes across from him are sharp and probing, feeling suddenly exposed and open, before the gaze softens and a hint of a sad smile lines his brother's face.

"Hey," Leo says dumbly.

Raph raises an eyebrow, but simply responds with a quiet, "I see you."

For a moment, Leo is confused, taking the words literally before the full meaning snaps back to him and he is left shaken and mute while Raphael just smiles softly and turns to keep watching his human friends and his brothers interact. Suddenly he understands the change in Raph, sees the weight his brother now shares with him, and suddenly he's not so exhausted. The weight still clings and pulls, but it's not him alone now. Leo finds himself leaning into his brother, blinking at the sudden realization.

_I'm not alone I'm not alone._

**AN: I think I should point out that I don't normally write in the present-tense so this was sort of a practice in that as well so sorry if it gets confusing in anyway. D8 Hope you enjoyed, please do leave a review, if you can. ^^ TTFN!**


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